A Single Moment, A Thousand Lifetimes
by MKSeaborn
Summary: A Chicago Fire Story about a single, life-changing call that will alter the members of Firehouse 51.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: **_

_I recently binge watched seven seasons of this marvellous show and this story crept its way into my head. I haven't written any story for anything in quite a while so hopefully this is good. I'm not one for extremely long fics so this might just turn out to be just a couple of chapters. I hope you enjoy!_

Chapter 1

"Come on men! Spring cleaning time! Chop, Chop, it's a housekeeping day. Get those rags ready and if you take too long better bring your toothbrush while you're at it."

Hermann clapped his hands to emphasise his order, issued with his usual distinct brogue that meant no nonsense. It was the first clear day for the season and this meant a thorough cleaning of the firehouse top to bottom.

This was an all company exercise.

Engine was on vehicle, floor scrubbing and equipment duty. Truck and paramedics were on Common room, bunks, office and bathroom duty and Squad was on external scrubbing, washing and painting.

Spring cleaning day was both the bane and gift of the Firehouse's existence. Boden was a stickler for a clean house and inspections were nerve-wrecking for the Officers. A friendly competition meant that bathroom duties for the next two months would be relegated to the company with the least approval points from the Chief. Nothing spurred this team on more than the prospect of freedom from that particular chore.

"Ugh, I hate spring cleaning day," bemoaned Sylvie as she grabbed a bottle of Windex from the supplies table, aka, the dining table.

"Somehow I always get stuck on window duty. The guys says it's because I'm good at it but I think it's secretly because they hate shining windows."

"So this is really a thing, we do? Spring cleaning?" Emily asked as she suspiciously eyed the cleaning supplies. "Is this like a hazing thing you all are trying, to get me to spend the day Cinderella-ing the Firehouse?"

"Well if this is hazing, they've been doing it to me for 6 years. Nope, sadly, Chief Boden's all about the 'de-clutter and spark joy" life. He says a clean house, refreshes the soul or re-boots the computer or some other psycho-babble".

"In that case, let's put some elbow grease into this. I want to be bathroom free for 2 months. Nothing motivates like the possibility of no chores."

Foster grabbed a laundry basket and headed in the direction of the bunk room, no doubt with the intention of changing out and washing all the sheets.

Good thinking, thought Brett. Nothing smells better and makes a place feel clean than freshly laundered sheets. With a smile on her face and humming a song out loud, Brett turned to move towards the door and walked smack into Casey's chest. Or rather into the bucket and mop he was holding. Water slopped a little over the top of the bucket but thankfully, it didn't spill onto her shoes. She did not want to spend her entire shift in smelly, wet shoes.

"Hold on there, Brett! You okay?" Casey asked. Brett, momentarily dazed by the unexpected encounter, managed to squeak out a high pitched " All good" before righting herself and stepping a safe step back from Casey.

Why did she continue to have this teenager response, whenever Matt was around? She chided herself.

Trying to prevent an inevitable awkward silence that her internal monologue was bound to create, she quipped "I see you're on mop duty there, Casey. I took you for more of a broom guy truth be told?"

Broom guy? Maybe I should have let the silence happen instead. What it wrong with me?! Brett, coloured in embarrassment as Casey gave her a slow, drawling smile.

"I'm much more handy with a bucket than you might expect." he responded. "By the way, was that A Happy Working Song, you were humming there? Very apropos, for the occasion."

Brett stared at him dumfounded.

"I have a niece, remember? She's a little old for that movie but don't tell anyone she still loves it." His face lit up at the mention of his niece.

Before Brett, had time to formulate a response, the intercom went off. Thank God!

'Ambulance 61 – Person in distress.. Corner of North Clifton Avenue and West Fullerton Parkway'

"That's us! See yah later! Foster, let's go!" Brett kicked into gear and started her mental checklist for her call as she made her way to the ambulance. No sign of distraction or nervousness in her stride. She was in her element.

Casey stared after her as she walked away, just a moment longer than was necessary, if he was being truthful to himself, which he wasn't quite ready to be just yet.

That one call, was about to irrevocably alter the day's plan and the members of Firehouse 51 personally for a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"So I saw you talking to Casey back there.." Foster stated tellingly, hoping that Brett would take the bait.

"More like slowly sinking myself into a pit of embarrassment. I mean, it's not like I've not successfully had a conversation with him before, but these past few weeks has seemed different. Charged is the word." Brett rambled.

Keeping her eyes on the road, she was still able to catch in her peripheral vision, a knowing smile and raised eyebrow from her partner. She didn't have time for that girl talk now though, because she was just pulling up to their destination and immediately something seemed a little off. Since being a paramedic in Chicago for while now, Brett knew that trusting her instincts was always the right choice. She spotted their victim on the sidewalk, a short distance away from the St. Francis University campus, lying immobile and facedown. There didn't seem to be anyone else around, which was what sent up the first red flag.

"Guard up. This feels wrong. " Pulling the ambulance up to the sidewalk, she double checked her mirrors and reasonably confident that there was no imminent danger, they both exited the vehicle.

"Who called this in?" Foster wondered, as she grabbed her gear and approached the seemingly unconscious female victim, dressed in jeans, sneakers, a pink jacket and a backpack nearby.

"Let's figure that out later. First, we need to help her. Ma'am can you hear me? My name is Sylvie, I'm going too to have to turn you over now so that we can help you. Can you talk? Are you able to hear me?"

A slight nod of the head, alerted them to a lucid, conscious woman.

Staring across at Foster, Brett, signalled for them to carefully turn the woman over. Slowly the each held her on either side and started turning her over, only to then recognise that her shirt was soaked in blood and an open wound started bleeding more profusely, now that the pressure was released from her chest.

Immediately, the paramedics snapped into action.

"Looks like a GSW to the upper chest, let's get some pressure on this. Ma'am, Ma'am, can you hear me? Do you know what happened?" Checking her airway to make sure it was clear while Foster applied pressure to the wound, Brett asked again "Do you know what happened?"

The woman, no more than twenty, by the looks of it, mumbled something incoherent. Leaning closer, Brett got down close to the ground, and heard three words that rocked her to her core.

"Active shooter. School." The woman, then began to lose consciousness.

"Dear God." Brett muttered as she glanced back at the seemingly innocuous University Building.

"What?" Foster demanded as she continued to apply pressure and began to pack the wound with gauze.

Instead of answering her directly, Brett grabbed her radio and alerted dispatch, " Dispatch, This is Ambulance 61, we have an active shooter incident at St. Francis University, one known victim, GSW to the chest. Shooter still at large. Send immediate back-up."

With fear coursing through them, the paramedics did what they were trained to do, deal with the victim.

"She's having trouble breathing, I think we need to get a tube in. Let's work this as quickly as possible and get out of here. Grab the backboard, while I do this."

Snapping a neck collar in place, and concentrating on the task at hand, Brett expertly inserted the tube to create an airway. Having checked for breath sounds, she and Foster, got the woman onto the backboard and hurriedly carried her to the back of the Ambulance.

As they were loading her in, two police cars pulled up and once officer approached the ambulance while the other did a cursory assessment of the surroundings.

"Victim is a young woman, approximately twenty, gunshot wound to her chest, no exit. Before losing consciousness, she indicated that there is an active shooter in the University. Streets have been clear since we got here, haven't seen anything, but this feels very real. We're short on time, but we're taking her to Chicago Med. We'll be back if this isn't resolved by the time we're done."

With that, the paramedics jumped into the ambulance, blasted the sirens and raced to Chicago Med.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hermann's day started out typical enough. Corralling the younger kids to school before shift, turned out to be more of a task than he had bargained for, with missing socks, lost assignments and mismatched hair-ties causing mayhem in front of the elementary school.

Since Lee Henry started college, Hermann had been assigned drop –off duty when he wasn't on shift. He was still getting back into this school thing, with the drop offs and the schmoozing with the parents and the carpool queue gossip channels.

Why couldn't parents just drop their children off and leave? Is it necessary to turn this activity into the social event of the week? So suffice it to say, that by the time the shift started, Hermann's already short patience was even shorter than usual.

"Come on, you knuckleheads, put your back into it! That's some weak scrubbing effort you have going there!" he yelled as the Engine crew scrubbed the apparatus floor.

"I should be able to see my reflection in the floor, like Mulan at that lake scene in the whatchamacallit place." Hermann's references sometimes caused confused eye-rolls, but nary a comment. His leadership style since being made Lieutenant might best be described as somewhere between autocratic and laissez- faire but his Engine crew, knew he meant business and always had their back. So they kept the comebacks to themselves. Mostly.

"Mulan? What are you? Twelve?" Cruz being a member of Squad, and therefore not under Hermann's direct command did not hold back on his comments.

"If you must know, that is a very important and ground breaking conversation on female empowerment and the oppressive patriarchal system which must be circumvented." Hermann retaliated.

"Huh?" Cruz said with a confounded expression

"Cindy's taking a class at the Community Centre." Hermann replied in a 'what can I do?' shrug.

"Understood." Cruz sauntered outside to man the ladder for a thorough inspection of the rooftop.

Hermann's temper wasn't just because of the inept housekeeping being displayed by engine crew. If he was honest with himself, his thoughts were centred on his eldest son, Lee Henry this morning.

Between his part time job at Molly's bartending (when did he turn 18?!) , helping out at home and his first year at college, Lee Henry still seemed a little lost. When he was eighteen, Hermann had a clear idea that he wanted to be a fire-fighting. It was in his blood.

Lee Henry wasn't as certain with his life path. He was still 'figuring it out'... These kids today were too spoiled. Hopefully, he will figure it out soon, otherwise Hermann would have to help him figure it out, whether Cindy thought it was a good idea or not.

In the meantime, Hermann would focus on things that he could control.

"Come on you num-chucks! Time to get these vehicles in ship shape!"

Boden put the phone down and sighed. This was not good. No call that started with "We have this under control, but standby" was never a good call. Luckily, the men were not in the Common Room today focused on the TV. They didn't need to be worried just yet. If this situation escalates, they're going to be in a lot of stressful situations soon enough.

"Debbie, can you get Captain Casey and Lieutenants Severide and Hermann in here."

"Sure thing, Chief." Debbie responded as he rose from her chair to go find the officers.

A few minutes later, the three officers came into his office. Good naturedly ribbing each other about the Spring cleaning competition.

"Casey, Severide, Hermann – close the door. We have a situation"

As though a switch was flicked, all joking manner immediately switched to alert and on guard in their demeanour. The ultimate professionals, they knew that their normally stoic Chief was not prone to hyperbole so this must be serious.

"We have received unconfirmed reports of an active shooter situation at St. Francis University. Firehouse 55 have been dispatched but we've been asked to be on standby, should the situation escalate. This can be an all hands on deck call, so I need you to prep your crews for what's to come."

The Chief's words were met with a sober and concerned reaction.

"Brett and Foster were dispatched to a call in that area a short while ago, Chief. " Casey said worriedly.

"They're fine. They were actually the ones to call it in. Found the first victim on the sidewalk out front. Got out of there before anything happened, first officers were briefed on the scene."

Casey and Severide sighed in relief. Hermann however, remained eerily quiet.

"Hermann, are you okay?" Chief Boden asked.

"Lee Henry is at St. Francis today. Sir, he's in that building."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Lee Henry enjoyed early mornings, more than any nineteen year old should. But growing up the oldest of 5 siblings in a house that just didn't seem big enough to hold all the noise, early mornings was when he got the most peace.

While the new day was slowly finding it's footing, Lee Henry was able to revel in quiet. Today he decided to walk to the University. The weather was just on the right side of perfection, a rare occurrence in the extremes that were Chicago's winters and summers that walking to work felt like a good idea. Plus the solitude was good, in a day that can quickly be filled with noise.

Today, he was one of the student workers assigned to the University Student Centre. He expected to spend his day, creating files for new students and archiving the records for the last graduates. It was a transition time for the University. Bittersweet- because it meant fresh beginnings but also farewells. But that was just the sentimental fool in him. His dad would have had his sappy side was on full display but like most of his dad's crass turns of phrases, he knew it was meant with love.

Lee Henry entered the front doors of the student centre and made a beeline straight to the records room. Prime real estate, also known as, the one desk, was the spoils of the first victor to arrive. Unfortunately however, Victoria seemed to have beaten him here today. He was relegated to the uncomfortable, "generic office grey" colour visitor chair.

"You snooze, you lose, Hermann" teased Victoria, as she pulled her long black hair into a ponytail. "It's going to be a busy day today. Mr. Davidson, has enlisted our help with the painstaking task of alphabetizing and cataloguing the doctorial thesis for the History Department."

"Oh, that can't be that hard, there can't be that much."

"It's for the past 15 years." Victoria deadpanned.

"Oh." Lee Henry made a resigned sound . Just then, they heard a commotion in the outer office. Curious, Lee Henry shrugged his shoulders at Victoria and headed back out.

As they entered the main office area from the record room door, it was as though time slowed. Standing there, in the middle of the reception area, was a guy who looked vaguely familiar to Lee Henry, dressed in all black with a hunter green backpack on his shoulders. What made him different from everyone else though was that aside from the backpack on his shoulders, he also had a rifle slung cross ways over the backpack and he was pointing a pistol at Ms. Taylor, the office receptionist.

Gesticulating from side to side with the gun, and a scarred look in his eyes, hunter green backpack was saying something.

"He ruined my life. He ruined my life. He's going to pay." He was muttering as he pointed the gun at Ms. Taylor, while scanning the room.

As though noticing the people in the room for the first time, "Hunter", as Lee started calling him in his head, started gesturing with this hand.

"Everyone, EVERYONE! TO THE FRONT! NOW!" Hunter bellowed.

Shell-shocked, and on the verge of panicked as the reality slowly started to seep in, the morning staff for the office, filed cautiously to the front of the room, giving as wide a berth as was possible to the manic man with the gun.

"Ok ok, On the ground now. Line up there, against the Reception Desk. Backs against it. That's it. Nice and slow. No heroes here." Hunter seemed to have found his rhythm now. His apparent plan falling into place.

The staff as meek as possible, followed the directives. Lee Henry sat down at the end of the line in front of the long desk that separated the reception, public access area from the inner office. Looking down the line, he counted about 15 other persons in the room. Victoria sat next to him, tears glistening in her eyes. He grabbed her hand that rested on the floor and held on tight.

Closing his eyes, he did the thing that came most naturally to him, growing up in a Catholic home. He said a prayer of Saint Michael to protect against this trial. Funny thing though, when he recited the prayer in his head, he heard it in his father's voice.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

"We're heading into a dangerous situation here." Casey said from the front of the truck as they headed out of the Firehouse.

"Firehouse 55, have been on scene since the start and we're going to be taking our direction from Chief Thompson. Crowd control is our main priority. Let's hope that this situation is resolved soon."

Truck 81 was unusually quiet. They geared themselves up to face this situation as they would any but Lee Henry was on everyone's mind. Hermann had insisted that he could handle the call, but the Chief made it perfectly clear that if things escalated and Casey felt Hermann had lost perspective, he was to be removed from duty.

Pulling up to the scene, was a lot to take in. There was a crowd of civilians but also a bevy of media trucks, cameras and personnel. They were cordoned off and by the looks of it Firehouse 55 seemed to be stretching it thin now that the spectacle was growing.

"Chief, what do you need us to do?" Casey asked as soon as he had jumped from the truck and moved in the direction of the Chief, who was set up in a tent with a police commander and FBI.

" Captain, I need your men to reinforce the West and North perimeters. The guys need some support there." As he said that to Casey, Chief Thompson radioed his Lieutenant to apprise them of the backup.

Quickly scanning the area to assess the layout, with discerning eyes Casey issued his instructions to his men, who dispersed as quickly and professionally as possible. Scanning the first responder vehicles he was able to make out Ambulance 61, parked within the responders' zone and quickly made his way towards there. Nearing the vehicle he was relieved to see Brett and Foster leaning against the nearby fire truck, looking a little nervous and a lot scared.

"Brett, Foster – you guys okay? I heard you were first on the scene."

Brett's tension eased immediately at the sight of Matt. Nothing had changed in the situation, but she felt that a weight had been loosened from her shoulders just with him there. She really needed to get a grip on her feelings here.

"Yeah, we're fine." Foster replied. "Got here and found a young woman with a gunshot wound. Learned about the shooting from her. We dropped her at Med and came straight back here. Figured FBI would have wanted to speak with us directly, even though we didn't see the shooter. Dispatch told us to hold our position."

Casey mentally did a once over of both women, lingering for a half a second longer on Brett than was absolutely necessary. He was relieved that they were safe, but there was an extra tug somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach that loosened the tension he didn't know he was holding for Brett. When this was sorted, he really needed to have a conversation with her. Just by looking at her, he knew she felt that electric tug between them. Have been feeling it for a while now. This wasn't totally his imagination, but right now, the job came first.

"We're on crowd control at the moment but I'm heading over to the Command Centre tent to see if there's anything more we can do."

As he started to walk away, he remembered that they had not in the Firehouse earlier.

"Just so you know, Lee Henry is inside." He said as he turned. "Hermann's here. Wanted to be a part of this, Chief gave him the clearance." He continued before they could react to the news.

Stunned, both women looked around, searching for Hermann and finding him walking the barricade the police had erected. Their eyes followed his slow patrol and then they glanced back at the school.

"Dear God." Muttered Foster.

Casey made his way back into Command Centre, that is the hastily erected tent that the FBI, presumably, had set up. Chief Boden had made it in here as well.

"We're setting up a perimeter around the school. Snipers are placed on the roof. The students are barricaded into classrooms as they have been taught to do with active shooter drills. We don't have eyes on the gunman as yet and no information to work with, so we're going to send in two men trained in this situation. They will clear rooms as they go and report back. Once we have eyes on the gunman, we would be in a better position to navigate this situation."

A man in a button up was talking as he intently studied what appeared to be the layout of the school compound. Agent Emerson was specifically trained to deal with active shooter situations. He was the best that the agency could have had working on this, not just in Chicago but in the entire country. He was a top notch agent with excellent instincts.

About 15 minutes later, two agents, outfitted to the full in protective gear walked cautiously towards the school. They soon disappeared into the campus, with contact being monitored in the command centre by Agent Emerson, Chief Thompson, Boden and Casey.

"Courtyard clear. No sign of gunman or any victims. Heading towards the Student Centre main office door."

Silence.

Presumably, the agents were approaching the Student Centre and cut all verbal communication.

An explosion sounded and over the radio one of the agents yelled into the comms as there was a collective gasp and screams from the crowd outside as the eerie silence that had enveloped the area was disrupted.

"Agent down.. Agent Down... Grenade" .

Static and then silence.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Murphy, Jennings. Report."

Agent Emerson spoke into the comms, waiting for a response. The silence on the other end of the line was worrying.

On high alert Agent Emerson turned to the Chiefs of the Fire Units in the Command Centre.

"Get me, a paramedic and a fire-specialist trained in bomb management. We need to get in there and clear this area. Standard protocol. I'm heading in. Be ready to head in there in five minutes." Emerson walked away, presumably to suit up and giving orders to the officers to widen the perimeter and push the curious spectators back. He was not chancing sending any more men in there with the situation as strained and uncertain as this and he was certainly not about to risk civilian lives with them so close.

"Chief, I'll head in, Ambulance 61 is on scene. Paramedic in charge is Brett. I'll have her geared up."

Casey did what he was trained to do. Shoulder the responsibility, and look for his best trained people to support him in a crisis. It didn't matter that the thought of having Brett, in the direct line of fire, made his stomach churn and his heart twist in ways that he was not entirely comfortable with. Having to ask anyone on his team to put themselves on the line was always the worst part of his job. Having to ask someone, who he could admit to himself now, was special to him, to walk into this situation, was gut wrenching. But the job came first. He left the Command Centre to the Chiefs, who were assessing the risk in the short time that was available, as headed directly to the Ambulance.

"Brett. With me. We're headed in." Without missing a beat, Foster and Brett, jumped into action, grabbing their supplies.

" Just Brett. FBI only needs one paramedic and Sylvie is Paramedic in Charge." Casey delivered the curt message to Foster in a no-nonsense tone which meant no argument. They were all trained for these situations, but that didn't make this any easier to digest.

"Don't worry, Em. I'll be fine." Brett said as she hurried off in the direction Casey had turned.

Casey had to walk away as soon as he delivered the message. There was no time to dwell on personal feelings now. It was time to do the job. But having come to the realisation that Brett meant more to him than he was willing to admit to himself before, he now knew that after this ordeal was done, he was going to have to act.

"Agent Emerson's, two men entered the premises just before the explosion. We're heard nothing on the radio since. Protocol means sending one agent in with a bomb specialist and a paramedic in to assess. That's us. Standard formation – Agent Emerson, you ... fully geared up in bullet proof kit and me bringing up the rear. Keep your head as low to the ground and remain fully behind Emerson. He's the lead here. We follow him."

Casey was clear in his instruction as they made their way to another of the make-shift tents, where presumably they were to get in gear. Brett, admitted to herself that she was afraid for the thirty seconds she allowed herself, before pushing the fear to the farthest corner of her mind. This job trained you to go against every human instinct. When people ran out, they ran in. It was that simple.

"Agent Emerson," Casey nodded in the agent's direction. "This is Sylvie Brett – Paramedic In Charge. We're your team on this."

'Captain Casey, Ms. Brett. You know the drill. This is first an assessment and rescue and recovery second. Make sure that there are no devices and if we can bring out the injured. If we do come across a device and Captain Casey you determine that it is an imminent threat, we will retreat and await the full bomb squad. We're dealing with a fluid situation here so let's make this quick and easy."

"Yes Sir. " Casey dutifully responded as he pulled a bullet proof vest on and his coat back over it. Brett did the same, eyeing Casey worriedly as she secured her radio back onto her shoulder.

"Let's go." Agent Emerson wasted no more time as fully geared up and with his gun shouldered, he headed back out the tent towards the campus.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Vicky was shaking next to him. He could feel the tremors in her body, through the shoulder that rested against his own. She was becoming increasingly agitated, which he knew could quickly turn into hysteria. Hysteria wasn't going to help. Lee Henry knew that given the time they had been in there, that the campus must be surrounded by now, with an entire riot squat out in force, working towards getting them out. Their job, in here, was to stay calm and uninjured until they could get them out. Dad would be out there for sure, which brought more than a small amount of comfort to his own nerves and imbued him with the courage to face this surreal scene.

Lee Henry shifted imperceptibly closer to Victoria, so that he was could put his arm around her waist, in a semblance of a hug. Hoping his own fear wasn't transparent, he tried to calm Victoria without words. She jerked a little when he first touched her and then almost immediately, she melted into his side, pulling in the comfort of that contact, like a drowning man gasps for air. She was still shaking but he sensed that he had steadied her for now.

He tracked Hunter's progress across the room with his eyes steadily looking at the nuances of his body. His agitation manifested with pacing and furtive glances to the doors and windows. He seemed to be unsure of his next move, but the hand holding his gun was firm and sure. Shoulders set, eyes darting gave the appearance that he was calculating his next move. From looking at the subtle facial movements, Lee Henry thought that Hunter's plan didn't seem to be going exactly as he had wanted, but that didn't completely derail him. He would adjust.

As Lee Henry continued his silent assessment, Hunter, who was pacing near the main entrance, suddenly went to full alert. His attention was caught by something out the door and he moved closer to the entrance, to peer through the glass in the top of the door.

The room's energy tensed. Everyone sensed something was happening, hoping that maybe, their ordeal was going to be altered, that the nightmare was going to reach its end.

Hunter, however, remained passive and more than anything, the simple lack of action on his part suddenly seemed to be more ominous than any pacing or gun wielding. Lee Henry watched as Hunter peering through the window in the metal door, slowly moved his arm reaching into this backpack side pocket and pulled out an object. Bringing his arm forward as though moving through a vat of molasses, Hunter pulled the pin from a grenade he had extricated from his bag, opened the door slightly and lobbed the now activated handheld missile into the courtyard. He quickly shut the door and darted back inside, just before a loud explosion sounded. The blast broke the window in the door where Hunter was peering out just moments before and the glass ricocheted into the Student Centre, as shrapnel dispersed throughout the air.

Hunter lifted his head from where he landed a few feet away from Lee Henry, and he noticed that Hunter had the inkling of a smile on corners of his lips. That diabolical look, told Lee Henry, more than anything else that the nightmare was far from being over. It had only just begun.

_**Scene : Outside the Campus a little later**_

There is this feeling that you get in the pit of your stomach as you walk towards a dangerous situation. In a fire, it happens when you see the smoke shooting through the windows and you put your mask on as you walk into the inferno. In this case, Brett felt that sinking, heavy weight in her stomach as she edged towards the campus behind Agent Emerson.

She felt rather than saw Casey right behind her. Her stomach twisted again as she thought of him walking into this controlled chaos that was the explosion scene. They saw smoke curling its way through the buildings and trees that surrounded the picturesque campus.

Brett wanted to shake this feeling, wanted the adrenaline to take over and propel her into action, forcing her mind to dwell on the here and now. But the gnawing, clawing, scraping monster currently working its way around her stomach towards her heart, kept telling her that this wasn't going to be a normal call. Call it women's intuition or subconscious judgements something was worrying.

She glanced down as she snaked past the spot where hours earlier she had found a girl lying on the sidewalk, fighting for her life. She moved quietly behind Agent Emerson, keeping her focus on the area in front as they moved towards the smoke that was becoming ticker. Agent Emerson raised his hand to silently convey stopping. Casey said into the earpiece "Mask On".

She quickly pulled the mask over her face, checking for air. She was ready. Glancing back she saw that Casey was also prepped. Thumbs up all around, the three walked into the smoke. They made their way slowly into the courtyard. Thankfully, they didn't encounter any bodies or devices along the way. Just as they reached the clearing though, the sight was unnerving. The buildings directly to the front of her resembled the shells from the news from a war torn country, with debris littering the courtyard and suddenly she saw the bodies.

The two agents seemed to have gotten the worse of the blast. Their bodies were thrown in different directions but showed signs of burns to the face and torso. She heard Casey exhale, even the sound of his breath told Brett that he was dismayed as her by the sight. Agent Emerson was reporting into the comms to Command of the status of the team. Then, Agent Emerson, made the signal to proceed into the courtyard, moving from the safety of the sheltering buildings into the wide expanse of the court yard.

They inched slowly, scanning the area, looking for un detonated devices as they moved closer to the Student Centre's Main Entrance. Suddenly, Brett heard two quick, loud blasts of noise and felt a weight fall on top of her as she found herself on her back staring up into the smoke filled sky.


	8. Chapter 8

_AN : Thank you to everyone, who has read, commented, followed and favourited the story. Sorry, it's taken this long for an update, but life has a funny way of eating your time. No promises that I can stick to a consistent schedule, but just know I haven't abandoned the story. _

Chapter 8

Her breathing was constricted by the weight on top her her. She shifted her head slightly and recognised that the bulk on her was Casey and he didn't seem to be moving.

"Casey, can you hear me?' she urgently said trying to assess the situation. She heard him groan, which caused her to sigh in relief.

"You need to get off of me. I can't breathe." Slowly, she felt the weight transfer to her side. Casey seemed dazed, but at least he was aware.

"What happened?" Brett tried to raise her head, but Casey' arm kept her pinned to the ground.

"Shots fired. Emerson got hit." Casey said. But something wasn't right. His voice sounded strained. Oh no!

"Casey, Casey are you hit? Are you hurt? "

With them both lying flat on the ground, he turned his head and she saw the pain etched on his face. Brett tried to get up, but Casey kept a surprisingly strong arm on her chest keeping her down.

"We don't know where the shooter is. Keep down. The smoke is giving us some cover now, but any movements can be detected. Keep still."

"Where're you hit?" worriedly Brett surveyed his body as best as she could. Cloaked in his gear, he appeared the same as always. He touched his side and pulled his hand away to reveal a worrisome amount of blood on his hands.

"Bullet seems to have missed the vest and lodged in my side. Hurts like hell."

Assessing the situation in her head, Brett did a mental check of the situation. They were lying in an open courtyard with a deranged gunman somewhere, next to the bodies of three dead FBI agents, as she presumed that Agent Emerson was either severely wounded or dead. Under cover of smoke, they had presumably fooled the gunman into thinking that they were mortally wounded or dead, but the smoke was clearing and they were still in harm's way.

"We have to get out of here. Can you move?"

"I think so."

They stared at each other intently for a second, communicating without words.

"Don't even think about it." Brett muttered to Casey, sure that he was about to tell her to make her escape without him. "No man left behind."

"Oh, you got that right." Standing above them, with a rifle pointed directly at Casey's head, stood a man with a maniacal sneer on his face and a cold, dead look in his eyes.

"Get up! Now!" ordered the man, as Brett struggled up. Casey winced as he manouvered his body in front of her as he stood himself.

Noting the insignia on their gear, the man immediately released the slightest of tensions, deeming a fire fighter and a paramedic of less threat than that of an armed FBI agent.

"You a medic?" he gruffly asked tilting his head at Brett. Mutely, Brett nodded her head, stunned that he hadn't attempted to harm them further.

"Good. You can be useful. Both of you, head inside." The rifle shifted slightly to determine the direction in which they were to walk. "Hands in plain view, away from your body" he ordered as he walked behind them.

Brett looked sideways at Casey, and he did the same. Pain evident on his face to her, he kept a stoic stance and his gait showed no sign of his discomfort. Taking his cue, Brett didn't allude to his injury, though she was worried about how serious it was and how much blood he had already lost.

They made it to the entrance of the student centre, where the door, badly scarred was still standing strong.

"Inside." Mystery shooter said.

Brett hoped to God that Casey had a plan, because she sure didn't.


	9. Chapter 9

_AN : Hope everyone is keeping safe and staying home if you can and if you're part of the essential services that is keeping this world together, my appreciation goes out to you. _

_Stay Home. Stay Safe. Stay Alive. _

Chapter 9

Be a helper. Lee Henry has always tried to be the best version of himself because his dad taught him to be that.

The best helper he knew was his dad and by extension the entirety of Firehouse 51, which is why when he noticed Mrs. Drummond looking pale, he had to say something.

Casey and Brett were brought in a while ago and were sitting in the far corner of the room, away from everyone else. Hunter kept looking across at them as he paced the room in semi circles. Instinctively, Lee Henry did not acknowledge that he knew them, not even a nod, look or gesture. They did the same, although he knew that they saw him.

"Hey, she needs help" He directed the question to the pacing madman, to stall his tracks. Vicky, who sat next to him, tightened the grip on his hand.

"What did you say?" Hunter asked as he turned his full attention to Lee Henry. Being one of 5 meant that he was never fully given undivided attention and the scrutiny he felt under Hunter's gaze was unnerving. Unwaveringly though, he continued.

"Mrs. Drummond over there" he gestured with his head, "She looks like she's about ready to pass out."

Without even looking at Mrs. Drummond, Hunter sneered " She seems fine to me."

"Listen, I can take a look." Brett said from across the room.

This time Hunter did turn around to stare at Brett. Instead of cowering under his gaze, she fortified her shoulders in a stance that said, You don't intimidate me.

Hunter turned away first.

Brave, Lee Henry thought as he continued to stare at Brett.

Hunter made a vague gesture of "Go on" in Brett's direction and she immediately made her way over to Mrs. Drummond, who at this point was leaning precariously on her side, trying to hold herself upright. After a brief examination, Brett addressed Hunter, in tones that meant business.

"She seems to have a concussion. We need to get her to lie down."

"Well do it."

"I need some help here, Hey Kid." Brett called over to Lee Henry, ignoring Hunter's gaze trained on her. "Come here, and help me move her to that couch over there." Lee Henry didn't move, but his eyes turned to Hunter. A barely perceivable head shake cleared his way. He released Vicky's hand, and moved over to Brett and Mrs. Drummond.

She instructed him on how to lift her gently and they slowly moved her over.

"How long?" Brett whispered

"Bout an hour or two."

"Anymore shooters?"

"No."

"Good"

"Hey, quit it across there. Get her on that couch and back to your places."

With no further conversation, they situated her onto the couch and moved back to their respective places. Vicky immediately reclaimed his hand but this time with a curious look on her face. He continued to stare straight ahead, not looking in Brett's direction. She must have a plan, he thought. He should help was his next thought.

Brett returned to her place next to Casey. He seemed to be getting more pale as he continued to lose blood, but he was holding it together well. We need to get out of here, she thought. He couldn't hold out much longer without a hospital.

Lee Henry gave her some vital information. A couple of hours meant that he would have to escalate his plan soon and he was alone. Two things that could work in her favour. He seemed to be heavily armed, so storming him wasn't an option, so this was going to be a psychological battle. She needed to get him to talk, needed his plan out in the open.

Casey, blinded by pain was still able to see the wheel in Brett's head turning. He moved closer to her without drawing to much attention to himself, or by agitating his injury.

"What's the plan?" he whispered. "Still working on it" she whispered back.


End file.
